The Hell Hounds of Rickety Flat
by JonesnInDaHood
Summary: Edward Masen searches for solitude in the quiet foothills of the Appalachian Mountains. And he finds it, until his new neighbor moves in.


_This is what happens when Jonesn and Hoodie don't get enough rest._

_Disclaimer: We own nothing, not even our sanity._

_Warning: Character death._

* * *

** The Hell Hounds of Rickety Flat**

_Anger is a killing thing: it kills the man who angers,_

_for each rage leaves him less than he had been before - _

_i__t takes something from him._

_~Louis L'Amour~_

The girl moved in on a Sunday.

A November rain filled the deep ridges of the long, muddy drive that joined the house next to mine, splitting it into two paths about halfway down. I peered through my window, sipping my coffee, smiling as the poor asshole skidded on the loose gravel and tore up the dead grass on the edge of the lawn. With each spin of the bald tires on the decrepit old Chevy, the undercarriage of the pathetic excuse for a truck was instantly caked in mud and grit.

The rusty, red truck came to an abrupt stop near the pitiful excuse of a shack next door. The girl, looking more like a teenager than a woman, hopped out of the truck and slowly made her way around to the front of the bulbous vehicle. Hands on her hips, she tilted her head back to appraise the house with a serene smile, her dark mane tumbling down her back.

Easily tearing my eyes away, I studied the decrepit structure as well. Crimson walls, the paint peeling back and chipping away over the years. Sagging front porch, the beams rotten more than the teeth of the man who sold me this place on the adjoining property. The fireplace crumbled to one side of the house, appearing unusable. The girl turned, gazed at my house, and caught my eyes through the window. I smirked, nodding my coffee cup in her direction before taking a deep pull, and inwardly gloating at the discomfort etched on the girl's face.

_Welcome to the neighborhood._

I found myself entirely too entertained with the stranger's discomfort,to be irritated by her sudden presence. Rotten Teeth assured me that both houses had been on the market for years. My inquiry into my own, deteriorating cabin was the first and only one ever made, according to the old geezer. That was the selling factor for me: complete isolation. There were just too many distractions. But my new neighbor ... she could be a welcoming one.

Blood chilling howls tore me from my thoughts. The girl jumped, her eyes snapping from mine to the bed of the truck.

That's when I noticed the hounds.

Black and tan, with thick coats of fur, the two dogs threw back their sagging faces and howled at the cold, gray sky. Puffs of steam escaped their throats, swirling through the early-morning mist. The girl rushed to the back of the truck, and struggled with the handle on the tailgate for a moment before it fell open with a loud creak.

The two, squant dogs jumped from the back of the truck, their noses to the ground as they darted around the front yard. They tore past the house and into the woods, climbing the hills that were overgrown with dead, scraggling trees. The girl watched them disappear into the forest with a gleeful smile stretched across her face. Fresh on a scent, their howls echoed, bouncing off the foothills of the Appalachians, the sound worse than nails scratching across a fucking chalkboard.

The girl was left alone, standing on the dying grass of the front yard. She turned, meeting my eyes once more. My gaze drifted over her legs, short and curvy, topped with what looked like a flat belly and firm, round ass, though I'd seen better, been in better, too.

See?

Fucking distractions.

Turning back to the truck, she opened the passenger door andpulled out a large suitcase. Noticing a few more bags piled on top of one another in the truck, I smiled a slow, curling smile. Abandoning my mug of cooling coffee, I shrugged on my coat and eased outside.

I wouldn't be able to write anything anyway, not until I checked out those full, candy-apple red lips up close - like wrapped around my dick, for example. That long hair tangled up in my fingers as I tugged and took what I wanted.

And I always got what I wanted.

Always.

"Need some help?"

The tiny slip of a girl dropped the suitcase at the sound of my voice. Pressing her hand over her heart, she let out a nervous laugh. Skittish, dark eyes roamed my body, one small hand rubbing the back of her neck. I grinned at the way her eyes widened and blinked.

_This is gonna be too easy._

I offered my hand. "Edward Masen."

"Bella Sw … um, Platt. Bella Platt," she introduced timidly. Squeezing her small, outstretched hand, I didn't fail to notice the way she faltered and stumbled over her last name. Shooting her a warm, comforting smile, I kept her hand in mine longer than necessary, but released it before she became uncomfortable.

_So she doesn't want me to know her real name? Tough shit. She obviously doesn't know who she's dealing with … yet._

I widened my most dazzling smile, the one that I practiced in the mirror over the years. "It's nice to see another human being, besides the guy who sold me my house, that is. Although, I have to say, you're much nicer to look at than old Waylon, any day."

The fucker was inbred. It wasn't hard to be.

Bella gnawed her bottom lip and gazed up at me with unsure eyes. The burning blush spreading over her cheeks told me that she wasn't one who often received compliments.

_Subdued and quiet, this is my favorite type of girl to fuck. The quiet ones are the loudest fucking wildcats in the sack. She's not much to look at, but I can always close my eyes and picture that curvy redhead from town._

"May I?" I asked, gesturing to the suitcase resting near her feet.

Bella's eyes hesitantly darted toward the woods, where the dogs had suddenly grown silent. "I think I've got it."

"Please? I insist …" Taking it upon myself to pick up the suitcase, I jerked my head towards her house. "Shall we?"

Bella begrudgingly nodded, eyeing my hand before busying herself with a couple of smaller bags. I followed her into the shack, discreetly flipping the I.D. tag hanging from the handle of her luggage between my fingers.

_Isabella Swan … Thought you can hide the truth from me, little girl?_

A New York City address was neatly printed beside the name, momentarily catching me off guard. Narrowing my eyes, I wondered about the odds of this woman moving to the foothills of Rickety Flat from the same city as I had, but the thought was quickly discounted.

_What do you think she's up to, Masen? Spying on you while you finally write your first,__bestselling novel? _ _Does she look like some kind of criminal mastermind to you? A stalker? This girl probably jumps at the sight of her own shadow._

Unable to contain myself, I barked out a large belly laugh at the thought, the deep tenor increasing in intensity once I spied her jerking in fraught.

"What's … what's so funny?"

Gesturing around the room, I shook my head and easy lied concerning my thoughts. "Your decor is just as hideous as mine."

The wooden planks that made up the floor were sinking and dusty beneath our feet. A faded, floral couch rested against one wall, yellowing stuffing hanging from the stretched seams. Appliances as old as the foothills themselves, cabinets with crooked doors, or what was left of them, made up the kitchen. Some were missing, exposing shelves void of dinnerware, but full of mouse shit. The air was thick with the scent of mold, mildew, and particles of dust drifting through the stagnant air.

Bella released a wistful sigh. A happy smile settled on her face. "It's the first home I've ever owned. I love it."

_Of course,__she does._

Tilting my head, I gave her a gentle smile. "Then it seems congratulations are in order." Bella blushed again, the sudden rise of redness to her cheeks delicious in color.

"Well, if you need any help with anything, let me know," I offered, dropping the suitcase at her feet. Slowly running my gaze up her body, I charmed her with my grin before taking a step back towards the door. "I've been told that I'm pretty good with my hands."

Lips parted, I left her looking dumbfounded, her whispered thanks nearly drowned out by the slamming of the screen door.

* * *

It seemed like things hadn't gone my way for a while. I escaped the city for a life in the mountains to concentrate on my latest novel. My first two had somehow flopped, but I was lost to the reason why.

They were brilliant.

I blamed everything and everyone on my lack of producing a bestseller. I blamed my publisher and blood-sucking editor for taking creative control over my plot and characters. I blamed society for the mundane romance bullshit that people never seemed to get enough of, the city for taunting me with endless parties, an endless stream of beautiful women with their legs spread open wide for me, and my pestering mother's endless nagging.

_Have you taken your meds, Edward?_

_You know what the doctor said._

_Blah, blah, blah._

_Fucking, neverending __babble._

I couldn't get inside my characters' heads in my new novel, but it wasn't my fault. The fault lied with everyone else. The constant interruptions and the negativity of those who were supposed to support me frustrated me to no end, their thoughts and actions placing an invisible wedge between my words and me.

Things were about to change for the best, I felt it deep within my bones. Glancing over the old typewriter, through the wavering glass window, I spotted Bella standing outside playing with those stupid fucking dogs

Their howls had kept me awake all night, their woeful cries only drowned out by the earbuds of my iPod. I'd grown used to the quiet since leaving the city, something I previously felt would be impossible. I began to thrive on it - the silence, only broken by the occasional trill of crickets or the hoot of an owl. But the hounds … they howled with each chirp of the insects, and with every screech of an owl. One night and I already hated those dogs, wanting nothing more than to choke the breath out of their lungs with my own two hands.

Time slipped by as I began typing, choosing to craft my work on the old typewriter my father gave me on my twelfth birthday. The ancient Remington once belonged to him, before he passed it on to me. Cold metal and solid keys were the only things the bastard ever gave me. Not a dime of child support or a minute of his time. Just one, drunken, fatherly gesture before he staggered off a subway platform two weeks later. It was never determined if had been the fall that killed him, or the train itself, not that it mattered. The man who shared my ruddy, unkempt hair, sharp jawline, and green, penetrating eyes had been dead to me long before that day.

Smirking to myself, I finished typing and placed a new piece of stark white paper in the typewriter. Stretching my fingers, I readied myself to type once more. My fingers barely glanced over the keys when a shrill, muffled scream sounded in the distance.

_Maybe she's hurt, and __I can pretend to care—perfect __excuse to lay on the charm._

Shrugging on my coat, I stepped outside and cringed at the sound of the hounds howling into the evening air. Clutching my hands into tight fists, I stomped to Bella's house, ignoring the dogs, who ceased their cries long enough to sniff my feet.

Noticing the front windows were void of my new neighbor, I kicked at the annoying beasts, my boot landing one, hard blow to the larger one's jaw. The animal howled, but this time in pain. He and his partner trotted away, one with his tail between his legs, and the other staring at me with sad, accusatory eyes. I flipped them both the bird and climbed the steps onto the sagging porch. The rotting, wooden door flew opened before I had a chance to knock.

"Mouse," she gasped, shoving past me and pressing her small frame against my back.

I imagined the cool, mountain air teasing her nipples. Could almost feel them hardening against my tensing muscles. The quick, frightened gasps of breath rushing in and out of her lungs were almost enough to fully arouse me, and I found it difficult to hold myself back from yanking down her tight jeans and fucking her senseless on her front porch.

Fuck, I needed to get some, and in a bad way. My dick had been acting uncharacteristically eager since the girl moved in. It was getting desperate.

I didn't get desperate.

Smothering the urge, I turned and lightly placed my hands on her upper arms, rubbing them in a comforting caress. "Don't worry, Bella. I'll take care of you."

I always chose my wording carefully to play to my advantage. So well, I should have taken up the fiddle.

Bella gave a hesitant nod and cast an anxious gaze around me. Disappearing inside the house, I shut the door behind me and glanced around. The bags and suitcases I helped her unload yesterday were nowhere in sight. The house was remarkably cleaner, the wooden floors shining as best as they could, and the crooked cabinet doors since straightened.

Bypassing the kitchen entirely, I went straight for her bedroom, taking a deep breath once I entered. Candles sat along the surface of an antique dresser and chest of drawers, their flickering flames gesturing for me to stroll further into the room. The soothing scent of lavender calmed me, minutely. My fingers danced along the top of a dainty, glass bottle, halfway full of amber-colored perfume. Picking it up, I removed the top and breathed the scent in, closing my eyes and smiling. The bottle barely made a sound against the scuffed dresser once I replaced it. One drawer sat partially open, and I grasped the golden knob on the drawer, revealing its contents.

Colorful scraps of fabric rested inside, the sight of the thin, silky underwear staggering my breath. Bunching them in one hand, I brought a handful to my face and buried my nose deep inside the material, yearning for the natural scent of a woman. Anger and disappointment flooded my veins with the smell of nothing but laundered clothing. Setting my jaw, I returned the panties to the drawer and glanced around the room. A discarded pile of clothes near the head of an iron-framed, queen bed caught my attention, and I crept forward.

Digging through the clothes, I paused at the sight of a brilliant shade of red. Tiny, red thongs were tucked neatly inside the familiar jeans she'd worn the day before. I removed the panties from the pile, stood, and held them in my hand for a moment, mesmerized by the silkiness beneath my fingertips. Overcome by desire, I pressed the crotch against my nose and hummed in appreciation. My mouth flooded at the scent, the desire to taste a woman overpowering me.

The creaking of a door sped my heart, and I shoved the panties deep inside my jeans pocket. I fell to the ground, shoved the bed skirt aside, and scrunched my brow in concentration, just as Bella entered the room.

Sighing in disappointment, I stood and wiped my hands on the back of my jeans. "No sign of a mouse anywhere."

"Oh. Well, thank you for taking a look around, Edward. Maybe my screams scared him off."

I opened my mouth to agree, but mournful howls drowned out my unspoken words. The baneful noise slowly died, the sound drifting away somewhere far in the distance. I wished they were drowned out permanently, and suddenly I was struck by a brilliant idea.

"Bella, have you thought about keeping the dogs inside?"

Bella wrinkled her brow, slowly shook her head, and cast me confused frown. "No, why?"

"The mountains grow so cold at night Bella; they need someplace warmer to stay."

"They don't like being confined inside a house," Bella said, shifting on her feet and wrapping her arms snuggly around her torso. "Or inside of a pen. I'm going into town tomorrow, to buy them a heating lamp."

"Are you sure you want to do that, Bella? Heating lamps can be so dangerous. I've heard stories of houses being burned to the ground because of them."

"There's an old doghouse way out back," she replied, pursing her lips in thought. "Far enough from the house that it wouldn't be in any danger of burning down. But, thank you for your concern, Edward. It's … sweet of you to worry yourself with the well-being of my dogs and for me, a complete stranger. I can tell thatyou truly care about them. How a man treats an animal says a lot about his personality."

_Care about your dogs? I care about my sanity. I care about drowning out their howls behind the walls of your house. I don't give a goddamn about your dogs. I care about one thing: myself._

"Of course," I replied. I casually closed the distance between us, shoving my hands inside my pockets fingering the slick material hidden inside my jeans. I focused my attention on her bedroom door, instead of on her, or her bed. My mind painted a picture of her on that rickety, old bed, lying on her belly, spread-eagle on top of the floral comforter, her ankles and wrists bound to the wrought-iron frame.

_She'd like it, too. Being tied up, begging __for my cock to sate the throbbing ache between her legs._

She was what I liked to refer to as passable pussy. It would be first, I had to gain her trust.

I paused at the bedroom doorway. "Bella, would you like to have dinner at my place Friday night?" Almost a week from now … plenty of time for her skittish-ass to agree.

"Dinner Friday?" Bella ran her fingers through her hair and drew her eyebrows together. "Maybe." Shrugging one shoulder, she licked her lips, fiddling with the hem of her sweater. "Let me think about it."

* * *

Sunday turned into Monday and Monday into Tuesday. Day by day, I made my presence known to the girl next door: chopping firewood whenever she happened to step outside, helping her with her groceries after a trip to the store. Dropping subtle hints and teasing flirts, I was sure I could charm my way into those tight little pants she always wore.

I complemented.

I praised.

I listened.

And then it happened.

By that Friday morning,I was just as jittery as the bitch next door. She hadn't mentioned dining with me, not once, and had made herself scarce all day long. There was absolutely no way she wouldn't show up that night, so I made the short trek into town and picked up the groceries I needed for the meal I planned to prepare. The rusty piece of shit she called a truck wasn't in the drive when I left for town, but had returned sometime during my absence. The slamming of my car door must have alerted Bella of my return, because once I turned around there she stood, awkwardly shifting from one foot to another.

Her gaze drifted from my face to the solitary, brown grocery bag I held in my arms. "Need some help?"

"Nah, I think I can handle this one bag." I shot her a one-sided grin, my brain screaming at me to lure her inside my house.

_Be patient. You don't want her to think you're fucking desperate._

My own thoughts betrayed me again. Desperate? Me? I almost snorted, the sound catching in my throat. Covering it with a cough, I took a step to one side towards the house.

Sometimes bitches needed a little push.

Frowning, I glanced down at the bag brimming with groceries. "Guess I'll be dining alone tonight. Again."

Crafty. I was fucking crafty. Halfway across the dead, front lawn is where she stopped me, clutching the arm of my coat and giving it a timid tug. Skin pale, eyes wide, she was as frightened as a …

"Edward, there's something missing from my house."

The sentence came out in a rush, bringing crimson to her already pink cheeks. Puffs of breath formed around her lips, the white mist disappearing into the winter air.

"Missing?" I asked.

"Yes, missing. And the only visitor I've had inside my house, besides _you_, is a mouse."

Oh, things were turning interesting. The giddiness surpassed any other emotions I felt in that moment. Bella, scared little Bella, was calling me out.

Her new found bravery humored and enraptured me, but I repressed the urge to gloat.

"Well, what's missing, Bella?"

Bella kept her eyes trained on the ground. The puffy, pink coat she wore gave her body a fullness she otherwise lacked. If only her breasts were as full and large as they appeared to be in that winter coat. She muttered incoherently under her breath. Amused, I asked her to repeat herself.

"My pant- My panties are missing," she blanched. "Why would a mouse scurry away with my panties?"

_She knew, and yet there she stood, confronting me._

_She was intrigued._

_Interesting ..._

"Hmm …" Pursing my lips, I feigned thoughtfulness. "There area few reasons that come to mind."

Taking a step forward, drawing closer to her, I expected her to back away, but she didn't.

"Desire," I crooned. "The insatiable need to be near anything that has touched you."

"That's crazy, Edward," she diverged, standing her ground. The darkness spreading in her eyes betrayed her words. She shivered as I leaned in and whispered in her ear.

"There's nothing '_crazy'_about wanting to touch you, Bella. Maybe this _mouse _craves beautiful things and you ..." Pulling back, I looked right into those big, gullible eyes. "You just so happen to be one of them."

Lying was a necessary factor in my life, something I used when I needed to get what I was plain, at best, but my bed had grown cold,and my dick was desperate for something tight, warm, and wet.

Bella silently studied me, her bottom lip working its way between her teeth when I began to back away. The distance between us didn't diminish my senses, which were fucking spot-on. I heard every quick, ragged breath escaping through her parted lips. The smell of her arousal must have been thick in the air, so potent even the dogs could smell it, their howls blowing in from the hills on the chilled, evening breeze. The desire on her face was delectable, and without a single nip, I could practically taste it on my tongue.

Playing with the zipper on her coat, Bella dropped her gaze, and avoided my eyes. "Don't patronize me, Edward. I know I'm not beautiful."

Closing the short distance between us again, I did well to hide my growing annoyance, adjusting the grocery bag in my arms, and reaching out to place one finger under her chin. Tilting it toward the sun, I pretended to study her unremarkable face.

"Oh, but you are, Bella. You are beautiful, beautiful to me." I tapped the underside of her chin. "Dinner's at eight," I reminded, turning away with a final warning over my shoulder. "Don't be late."

* * *

The tick of the clock hanging above my mantle was quiet, at first. Each passing second the sound grew and grew, the clock swelling in my peripheral vision. Evening would soon turn into night and Bella still hadn't arrived. Convinced that her absence wasn't of her own, free will, I left the steak and potatoes warming in the oven, and headed next door.

The fucking dogs were howling, but the sound was in the distance. Ecstatic that they were no longer underfoot, I bounced up the steps and onto the porch, confused by the darkened windows. Fist clenched, ready to knock, I paused after noticing a flicker of light through the thin curtains of the living room window. A soft moan followed, the sound an invisible wire pulling me toward the cracked glass. Finding a slight part between the curtains, I peered inside.

Legs bent at the knees, thighs parted, Bella lay on her back, her small body sinking into the worn cushions of the couch. The glare of the television settled over her bare legs, the flickering screen bathing her thighs in a dim, white light. The rise and fall of her hips was in steady succession to the stroke of her fingers, which were buried under her panties. I barely breathed. The air was seized from inside my chest. My eyes flickered to the television, the scene playing out on screen sending my heart racing.

Ankles and wrists bound by a thin rope, a woman lay on her belly, moaning and squirming on the bunched, white sheets of a bed. A man towered over her, his face cut out of the frame of the video. All that was seen of him were his legs, the swelling in his pants, and his hands, which occasionally checked the binding of the woman's limbs.

The woman's ass and hairless pussy were on full display, and the man took advantage of it, softly stroking her inner thighs before working his way upward. She pushed into him, her wetness coating his fingers. He was gentle at first, stroking her clit before pushing two fingers deep inside her pussy.

The woman moaned, the sound muffled under a scrap of fabric covering her mouth, and tied behind her head. The man removed his fingers, used them to spread the wetness further back, and sunk his thumb deep inside her ass. He was slow and diligent with each thrust. Returning two fingers inside her pussy, he worked both tight entrances together in perfect, alternating rhythm.

When the woman came, Bella came, her strangled scream muffled by her one, free hand. The other remained under the wet fabric of her panties, staying there long after her hips ceased their movement and my pulse was no longer frenzied.

_What do ya know … Bella Swan is a kinky little slut._

If I didn't know better,I would have sworn she was dead, laying on the couch with her hand in her panties and her eyes closed. Exhausted, I imagined. She was only pulled from her orgasm-induced slumber once I tapped loudly against the cracked glass.

Bella jerked at the sound of my knuckles rapping against the window. Letting out a startled gasp, she attempted to stand, lost her balance, and slammed against the wooden floor. She glanced up at the window from where she landed on her hands and knees, giving me a perfect view of her small tits through the stretched neck of her shirt.

Bella's mouth dropped open as I motioned for her to open the door. Scrambling to her feet, she nearly fell again, her legs caught up in the throw she desperately tried to hide beneath her nearly bare, lower body. Blood pooled in my mouth, caused by the biting on the inside of my cheeks. The smirk I fought to conceal refused to stay hidden, so I allowed it to spread over my face.

Wild eyes and disheveled hair greeted me after a handful of minutes. Jeans replaced the throw. The denim covered her naked legs, the wrinkled material constantly being smoothed under her jittery hands.

"So, I see you've found something better to do with your time than having dinner with me."

"Oh, God, Edward,I didn't even notice the time. I'm … I'm just mortified. I don't … I don't even know what to say."

I could barely concentrate on her embarrassment. Not when I could see her sex still fresh on her fingers.

"Don't be embarrassed, sweet girl. Why don't you come over? I'll heat up some grub and we can … talk. We have more in common than I think you realize."

* * *

Chatting over a meal of steak, salad, and baked potatoes, I learned all about Bella Swan.

Born in Washington State,she spent the first few years of her life raised by a single mother who fled Seattle after divorcing Bella's father. Bella was sent back to live with her father at the ripe age of ten, after her mother overdosed on prescription narcotics. An only child, and admittedly withdrawn, Bella never grew close to her father. I listened as she quietly confessed that she often compared herself to wallpaper: always there, fading into the background, and rarely noticed. Her only friends were those fucking,annoying-as-hell dogs, which whom she adopted from an animal shelter.

I stoked the fire in the fireplace while she continued to talk. With my back to her, I was free to roll my eyes, tired of the talk and ready for some action, the kinky tie-me-up-with-a-rope kind of action. Hoping the fire added ambiance, I suggested we move to the couch to continue our conversation.

The hours slipped away as she droned on and on. I nodded occasionally, tucking all the information away in the back of my mind, but completely intolerant of her need to speak only of herself.

_What about me?_

"I've never met a man like you, who hangs on my every word, and is genuinely interested in what I have to say."

"Who wouldn't be interested in you?" I peppered. "You're sweet, beautiful, compassionate … kinky." That made her laugh, the tinkling of her giggle brightening the twinkle in those muddy, brown eyes. Or maybe that was the wine. Either way, I laid it on thick as the drink thinned her defenses. "Finding you watching that video … Bella, is that something you're interested in? Bondage?"

The wine wasn't the only thing that reddened her cheeks. My words spread the blush, the delectable color creeping across her neck and over the soft, roundness of her cleavage.

"Edward, you must think I'm some kind of freak."

"Never."

_I think you're boring, at best._

I grasped her hand, the same one she had buried inside her pussy earlier that night, and gave it a reassuring squeeze. "Remember what I said? We have more in common than you think. Bondage has always been something I've been interested in. I've just never found a relationship worthy of such a thing. Trust. There has to be trust between people before they can even attempt such a thing. Please, don't be ashamed. I'm relieved to find someone … someone like me."

Bella said nothing for a long moment, possibly mulling over my words, entranced by the faux sheepishness in my voice. Fuck, if writing didn't pan out, I could always become an actor. The air was filled with the crack and pop of the fire. The shame faded from her eyes the longer she stared into the fire, until finally glancing at me.

"Edward, I have a confession to make," she said after she'd settled. The words were a mere whisper, almost drowned out by the crackling of the fireplace nearby. "My last name isn't Platt. It's Swan," she revealed, taking another long pull from her glass. "There was a man once. A man that claimed to love me, but didn't. The only thing he loved was hurting me, mentally and physically." Restless once again, she leaned in closer. "I've been hiding from him," she explained in a hushed hurry. "And, no matter where I go, I'm always looking over my shoulder, afraid he's going to find me. Always."

Tears welled in her unsettled eyes, and I fought the urge to roll mine.

_Such dramatics with this one._

_I wonder if it's too soon to ask if I can use the gag? _

I silently thanked the poor asshole who came before me for making things so much a patient smile, I leaned forward to soothe her. Worry and unease clouded her face, but was drowned out by the trustworthy gaze I relished upon her.

"I'll protect you. I'll always protect you," I insincerely swore, stepping it up a notch. Eyes fluttering until they closed, she wet her lips and leaned forward as well, but jumped away at the last moment as a thunderous, baying sound seeped through the wooden boards of my decrepit house. I gritted my teeth and clenched my fists. Heat crept up my body, winding its way around my neck and clutching my throat in a vice.

_Goddamn dogs!_

_Those,__goddamn howling dogs._

* * *

The next night was much the same, except for the surprise bondage.

_Bummer._

Wearing my best, I knocked patiently on Bella's door while the hell hounds howled from the foothills. I waited on the porch while she occasionally yelled from the other side of the door that she was _coming_, though she was taking her own sweet time doing it. I was tempted to yell back, asking if she was sure, and that if she needed any help I would always be there to assist. But I refrained, certain that she would lock the door then throw away the key and never come out again. And that just wouldn't do.

What seemed like hours later, she wrenched open the door, and I graced her with a smile, motioning her out and down the steps in front of me. I admired how the hem of her sweater sat high on her hips, giving me a nice, full view of her only asset.

"Full moon tonight," I commented, causing her to squint up into the blackened, night sky.

"No, it's not," she countered, staring straight through the bony fingers of the abundantly, bared trees, her squint landing on the glowing curve of the crescent before she turned it on me.

I shrugged. "So it isn't."

Snickering to myself, I placed my hand just above the ripe apples of her ass to lead her up the stairs and into my lair. Tonight was the night. She was going to give it up.

Like it or not.

Playing the perfect host, I turned on the charm, filling her belly before feigning interest in her small mind.

I nodded.

I hummed.

I acted as if I was listening … _patiently._

The longer she talked, the closer I got. A caress to her fingers. A light squeeze to her thigh. Brushing her hair over her shoulder, I thumbed her collarbone, leaning in to run my lips along her jawline. My hand crept up into the crease of her thigh, and I licked the back of her earlobe, pulling it into my mouth to skim the sensitive flesh with my teeth.

Her gasp pulled my attention to her mouth. I looked at it, pink and parted, going in for the kill when that glistening tongue poked out to wet her bottom lip. I caught her tongue with mine, pushing both into her mouth as I grazed over the center seam of her jeans. I placed just enough pressure over her pussy to push another gasp from her lungs before the barks of those fucking dogs came knocking at my front door.

_Fuck!_

Every night thereafter was the same; she came - not that way, unfortunately - we would eat, and then fool around before she left, preaching the word of holistic hound care.

"_They're all I have, Edward,"_I mimicked spitefully in my head.

She was always so worried about those stupid wolves, the ones that no doubt wanted nothing to do with the noisy, little shits. I had a mind to tell her as much in the hope that I was wrong and that they'd viciously rip out the mutts'throats.

The worst part was I wasn't getting any sleep, which meant I wasn't getting any writing done. Mid-afternoon was the only quiet moment I had, and I mostly spent it sitting at my desk, blinking blankly at my typewriter keys.

I was blocked, both in thought and in cock. It would have been funny if it were happening to anybody else. As cliché as it sounded, I was on the verge of stereotypically turning to the bottle in order to get some shuteye.

Come Friday, I was out of sorts. Too tired to prepare a decent meal, I served her microwavable lasagna, foregoing the garlic bread. The broken duet of dogs howling into the night was the backdrop to our evening.

Could you imagine?

"Ignore them," I suggested, pushing back the hair from her shoulder to lean in and kiss her neck. I smiled into the crook when she shivered, scooting closer to lick at the little dip. Putty in my hands, I took it upon myself to place her hand over my bulge, encouraging her to rub it with the force of my own.

The bitch had a lot of making up to do for leaving me hanging all week and,I was gonna see that she did it.

"You feel that?" I asked, pressing her palm harder into me, smirking against her jaw when I felt her nod. She gasped at the boldness of my action, but didn't back away. No, the bitch liked it.

"You do that to me. That's all yours. Ever since you moved in, every last inch."

Grabbing her by the back of the neck, I forced her to look at me, a surge of satisfaction shooting into my veins when she whimpered, showing me the clear sign of fear shining in her eyes.

_Oh, that's good. I like it when they're scared._

Loosening my grip, I splayed my hand out on the back of her head, pulling her lips against mine. Eyes wide opened,they met the state of my mouth, probing and pleading, wanting hers elsewhere. Tightening my grip, I tugged her back, making sure that helping hand of hers kept up with its task.

"I want you to suck it," I asserted, leaning forward to kiss her again. I spoke my request against her lips.

"Can you do that for me? Can you suck my cock?" I asked, licking along her quivering, bottom lip. "Swallow every, last drop?"

Even on the verge of getting my dick licked, I was dropping solid verses. Fuck, I was awesome. A natural born poet.

Silently, she pulled that lip between her teeth and I took it as a yes, tightening my grip on her hair and slipping my free hand under her knee, easily pivoting her small frame to straddle my thigh. My fingers dug into her hip in encouragement, and I helped her to slide down my leg, the heat of her wet pussy burning me the whole way.

"Be a good girl and I'll make her sing," I promised, bouncing her on my shin before pulling her off and placing her between my knees, thinking she looked even more appealing on hers.

"Undo my pants," I ordered, lazily smiling while she fumbled with the button, flawlessly lowering the zipper. "Now, take out my cock."

Slowly and with trembling fingers, she pulled the waist of my briefs back, barely catching the head on the elastic band. I lifted my hips so she could maneuver them down my thighs and over my knees, letting them pool at my feet.

"You know what to do with that, little girl?" I teased. "Or do I have to tell you how to suck it, too?"

Fire flourished behind those brown eyes, spreading like wild into the apples of her cheeks. I wanted to bite them when I came, cry out in pleasure as I made her scream in pain.

"Put your mouth on it, Bella," I instructed, giving her hair a firm tug before forcing her head forward. "Put that cock in your pretty, little mouth and suck it dry."

As soon as the tip of her wet tongue licked the leaky head of my cock, a slew of baneful howls bounced off the walls, each following closely, one right after the other. Predictably,she attempted to pull away again, but I held her steady, forcing the whole head of my cock into her open, opposing mouth. I shivered as she mumbled around it, scraping the top with her teeth before clamping them down on me.

"Shit!" I cursed, letting go and pushing her away. Losing her balance, she fell back on her ass.

"Serves you right." I laughed, on the verge of hysteria from lack of sleep and pussy. "What the fuck was that?"

Standing, I pulled on my pants, not bothering to help her up off the floor. Wasn't as if I was getting anything out of it, other than a nice set of blue balls.

Fuck that.

Bella's body grew rigid as I paced back and forth, each strike of my boot against the splintering, wooden boards bringing me closer to the edge, and I was already tittering on the brink of madness as it was. One more fucking howl ...

"You know, I've been nothing but kind, considerate, and fucking complacent with you," I growled. "All I asked is for you to put those dogs away, just for one fucking night, just for part of the goddamn day, but did you listen to the one suggestion I gave you? No."

Bella's mouth opened and closed, but no words came out. Just as well, I had more to say.

"Night and day, day and night. Barking, howling and whining. I can't sleep, I can't eat, I can't think."

But most importantly I couldn't _write._

"Edward, I-"

"Tell me, Bella, what the fuck do you do when you're knuckle deep in that pussy of yours and those fucking dogs start to howl? Huh?"

Coming to stand at her feet, I stared down on her gaping mouth menacingly, breaking character with a smile while she scooted further away from me.

I stepped forward.

"Do you pull them out of your cunt?" I asked in all seriousness. "Bypass washing your hands before running out to baby the little shits?"

I took another step closer as she scurried further back, her head lightly banging against the wall. The sudden jolt knocked a gasp out of her. My heart raced as her chest heaved. Barely keeping from sneering, I squatted down to her level.

"Is that what you do, Bella? Do you let them lick those fingers clean?"

Reaching out to tuck a hair behind her ear, I smirked as she recoiled, taking in the shape her profile before standing again. I scrubbed my hands over my face to hide the hard roll of my eyes, offering her my hand with a defeated sigh.

"Fuck. Look, I'm sorry, okay?" I stressed, reinforcing the offer with a quick flick of my fingers. I managed an apologetic smile to lure her hand into mine, easily helping her to her feet. I ignored how she tensed as I pulled her flush.

"I've just been under a lot of stress lately … haven't been sleeping," I hedged.

_Because of your fucking dogs._

"Forgive me?"

Hesitantly she nodded against my chest, pulling away all too soon, and refusing to look me in the eye. If I didn't know any better,I would have ventured that she was simply placating me in an attempt to escape unscathed.

But I _did _know better.

I always knew better.

I knew everything.

Shoving my hands in my pockets, I allowed her reprieve, briefly meeting her eyes before she turned towards the door, understandably fighting the urge not to leave.

I bit back a triumphant smile.

She was a woman, after all. And all women were the same - nurturing and caring, hard up for acceptance from anything and everything that claimed to need them - stupid. From the astute observation of her hesitant demeanor, I wagered that she would be back, begging for my cock and for me to forgive her.

I'd give it two, maybe three days tops.

* * *

The days dragged by, and still Bella hadn't come knocking on my door, not once, to apologize for her selfishness, for her loud-as-fuck dogs, or for abandoning me in the middle of a date.

As I suspected they would,the dogs remained outside. The rise and fall of the winter sun didn't deter them from their howls. If anything, the sound increased in frequency and duration, the only reminder that I wasn't the only one living on that damn hillside.

Mornings were the worst.

Steam siphoned from the rim of the mug, briefly warming my skin before leaving it damp and cool once always won out in the end, it creeped in with the dead of the night,to burrow deep within my bones. It feasted on the marrow, lapping up the remains of tasty, molten copper, leaving me stiff and hollowed. I was sick of the fucking cold, growing tired of every inch of my body aching. - just as it liked me to. I could feel it ghosting through the cracks beneath my feet, the old, wooden boards creaking in time with each barefooted step.

It rejoiced in suffering.

Thrived on pain.

Much like my main character, who was a goddamn work of art if you asked me. So precise and cunning in his killings you'd think _I'd _been the one to do his dirty deeds for him.

Setting the piping-hot cup of necessity down on the windowsill, I left it to fog and defrost a small portion of the glass.I briefly peeked out the widening gap at the neighboring cabin before turning and crouching low to tend to the dwindling fire.

Four days.

It had been four days, and she hadn't been back.

Much like that bitch next door, fire wasn't a good lover either, taking its pleasure with several nips at my skin. I didn't even feel them anymore. My fingertips hardened with the ireful kisses of a vindictive love. I was numb, dead and rotting from the inside out; hollow as that old, wallowing tree out back.

I more needed sleep, never enough sleep.

Smirking at nothing in particular, I sniffed a laugh, amused with the idea that fire could be so much more frigid than the mounds of snow piling up outside.

_Bella._

_Beautiful._

I scoffed.

More like an acceptable replacement for an electric blanket ... if that.

Four.

Fucking.

Days.

Heat was sparse up here in the throes of the season. It kept to itself mostly, curling up selfishly at the foot of the famished fireplace - tempting and teasing, peeking up at me with one eye open.

_Just like Bella._

The flames licked at the splintered logs, each flickering spark dancing along the surface of the wood. The action drew me in closer to the crumbling fireplace, and for a moment the flames were living, breathing things, luring me in with each, exotic movement among the glowing embers. The fire pleaded and begged, its claw-like hands reaching out towards me, while each log slowly collapsed into a gray pile of smoldering ash.

_Touch me, just once. I dare you._

Tempted, I grabbed a couple of logs from their cast-iron resting place, and fed fuel to the flame, watching as it grew, its rapacious mouth engulfing the barren bark in one, yawning gulp.

I felt an overwhelming urge to touch myself, jerk my stiff dick to completion and douse both infernos that had quickly risen.

"There," I humored the flourishing flames instead. "At least somebody appreciates my morning wood."

Looking back out the window at the cabin, I rose with a grunt. Stretching my aching back, I yawned, absently scratching an itch on my side before sipping from the now lukewarm cup of joe. Slightly less unsatisfied, I rubbed the center of my stomach where the pooling liquid sat, quickly spreading, and mixing with the blood pumping through my veins. Unlike her, it warmed me from the inside out.

_Fucking tease._

Setting the mug down on the aged, wooden desk, I took a seat, ceremoniously cracking my knuckles before placing my fingers on the keys. The first strike resounded off the barren walls with a mocking echo. I rolled my eyes and stretched my neck, annoyed that I didn't pack my less obnoxious computer, adamant that the monster I had conjured had no use for such modern things.

He was basic; no frill, no extra, just him, his knife and those pesky, everyday necessities - like coming.

He was above. My creation, my muse - me incarnate, if I ever were to become a crazed, sadistic killer.

And who was to say I wouldn't?

I smiled to myself, remembering how I had acted pretty crazy that night, spectacularly scaring the shit out of the girl, and pleasantly surprised to find that I liked it.

My depravity knew no bounds.

The second strike of the keys wasn't nearly as vexing as the first and soon enough I wouldn't even hear them at all, my innovative mind transpiring time and place. It was easy getting lost in my made-up worlds. Getting caught up in crime, power, greed, and sex, I almost wished I lived in them.

Almost did.

Almost.

Truth be told, there was no one I'd rather be than me, even on my worst day. Nowhere I'd rather be than right here in this chair, typing out the twisted tale that would no doubt win me, not only national praise, but the next Pulitzer Prize. Besides, Bella would fit nicely down there under the desk, snuggled between my legs, her beauty only improved upon while my dick was being shoved down her throat.

"_Choke on it,"_I spat out, the pads of my fingers pounding roughly on the keys.

Ever since moving in next door, Bella had been the star of all my characters most abhorrent fantasies. He was a real letch, this one, more than once testing the breath-holding abilities of his victims.

'_Holding her down, I ground the tip of her nose into my pubes, praising her as she gagged and swallowed, sucking me further down by the ridges in her throat. She'd get me off this deep, my obedient, brown-eyed girl. She would, or she'd die trying.'_

The thought of Bella asphyxiating while eating my cock caused a stir in my sweats. It had been too long since I'd come, four days since the bitch worked me up then left me hanging. I refused to stoop as low as stroking my own cock, briefly considering taking the short trek to that sleepy, little town at the bottom of the hill, certain I could find _someone _to take care of my ... predicament.

I hated to admit it, but I was desperate; desperate for something warm and wet. It was all I could think about, having an open mouth wrapped all the way around me. Man or woman; I didn't care. If it wasn't going to be Bella,then it didn't fucking matter. A mouth was a mouth; they all felt the same.

I would know.

I may have been above many things, but getting my dick sucked wasn't one of them.

Scrubbing my hands over my face, I stretched my fingers and got back to work ignoring the tent I'd pitched. This prizewinner wasn't going to write itself,and I was quickly running out of time. My publisher was doing a fucking fantastic job of reminding me of that, shooting me those thoughtful, daily texts.

_Ding!_

Eyeing my cell, I fought the urge to chuck it out the front door before turning back and placing my fingers on the keys.

They were still warm, fresh with the heat of a building orgasm - the lucky bastard. He was about to blow.

That right there; that was where my characters and I differed. I _wrote _about them sating their vices, while they actually _got _to sate them. It wasn't fair.

'_Bucking up into her, I caught her head on the edge of the desk, not caring the least bit if I'd knocked her unconscious. A mouth was a mouth,_he thought, and I smirked. _With no gag reflex,__she could take me even deeper._

_Tingles transpired from my toes._

I wiggled mine.

'_A warm rush running up the inside of my thighs,__to lightly lick at the underside of my balls.'_

My dick twitched with the thought of anyone licking my sack, and I palmed myself over my sweats, attempting to rub out the ache. Pinching my brow in frustration, I let my head fall back, slowly sliding my palm up my length. I imagined it was someone else's hand sensually spanning my lower abdomen - which felt incredibly tight, by the way - their fingers toying with the waist of my sweats before dipping under the elastic. I automatically bucked into my waiting hand, possibly the most turned on I'd ever been.

Maybe there was something to this touching yourself after all.

I mean, it _was _me.

Wrapping my dick in a vice grip, I pumped it once, twice, already on the verge of jizzing in my Jockeys when another, baleful howl stifled my rhythm.

"What the actual fuck!"

Releasing my already-limp dick, I shoved the chair back, knocking it over as I stood.

_Those fucking dogs!_

_Those goddamn, fucking dogs!_

Stomping over to the fireplace, I wrenched the poker out of its stand, staring at the tip and thinking how easy it would be …

Winding back, I bludgeoned the faded brick instead, whipping and wailing, repeatedly beating the sanguine cinder into submission.

Soon out of breath, I threw down the siphoning iron, clenching and unclenching my fist to work the numbness out of my hand. My roar matched their barks as I stalked by the window, flipping it off before making my way down the back hall to my bedroom.

I needed to get off, get moving … just get away from those fucking dogs before I totally flipped the fuck out.

_Fuck Bella and fuck those dogs. Fuck them! I'll find some bitch to get me off before the end of the night._

Stripping off my sweats, I stepped in front of the full-length body mirror, admiring the one that I saw in it. Skimming the angular square of my jaw, I moved down my neck, palming my pecs before plucking my nipples.

_She turned _me _down?_

Shaking my head, my hand coasted over the hills and valleys of six, prime-cut, abs. I flexed under my touch, my eyes appreciating a well-endowed package before scanning my more than adequate leg muscle.

_She chose to go and jill-off in front of a couple of cock-blocking dogs when she could have had all this?_

She was lucky I gave her the chance, fucking dense for not taking it, too. 'Cause that was it; that was the last straw. Nobody said no to me and got away with it.

No one.

Clenching and unclenching my fists, I admired how every well-worked muscle in my body jumped before turning an about-face and stalking to my dresser drawer.

_Maybe she gets off on it, coming for a furry audience. If that's what she needs,__I can give it to her. Easy._

Yanking out a fitted, black, v-neck sweater, I strained my neck to check out my backside, just as happy with it as I was with my front.

I decided to go with my Luckys even though I didn't need them. It wasn't about luck. It was about me.

Spreading out my outfit, I went for my Axe, popping off the top and applying an acceptable amount - all within the view of the full-length mirror. I liked to watch myself get ready. It got me excited enough to go out and actually pretend to care about anyone other than me.

Picking up my pants from the bed, I pulled them over each leg, flawlessly closing the zipper before buckling it in place.

_Perfect __fit._

That dinner with Bella had been torturous. Not only did I not give a shit about who she was, or where she came from, I didn't once get to talk about me. Not once did she ask about my life.

"Typical woman," I muttered under the collar of my sweater, tugging it down before leaning into the mirror and needlessly tousling my hair. It knew its place and always fell in line.

Fucking perfection.

I could've kissed my reflection.

Goddamn, I was good.

Stalking back out to the front room, I eyed my jacket teetering on the idea of not taking it. I didn't like covering up more than I had to, wouldn't have to worry so much about unwanted wrinkles. However, if the rental broke down, I'd be needing it. Even _I _knew I wasn't immortal ... though I was pretty sure I was meant to be. My next book would see to that.

Begrudgingly, I lifted the jacket off the hook, fishing the keys out of the pocket before throwing it over my shoulder.

Locking up behind me, I cursed the mounds of snow all the way to the truck. Night had fallen quickly while I worked. The fucking door was frozen shut, but nothing my strength couldn't handle. Two tugs and it came flying open, the same time as my nosy neighbors.

Climbing into the cab, I slammed the door shut, starting it up and revving the engine just as she rounded the front. She shot me with a glare, and I flashed her my best smirk.

It was freakishly cold out, and I enjoyed the way she squirmed when the wind blew. Her obvious discomfort eased me. I feigned interest in what she was saying while I watched her mouth move, letting her finish before cupping my ear in an asshole move to pretend I didn't hear her. My smile grew when she squished her lips together, motioning for me to lower the window. Nodding in sudden understanding, I pushed the down arrow.

"What do I owe the pleasure, Bella?" I asked as the window lowered. "Is it my birthday?"

Blowing into her clasped hands, she squinted over them.

"I don't know. Is it?"

Considering the question, I scanned over her chapped features.

"It is." _It wasn't_.

"Oh. Well ... happy birthday."

"Thank you."

Nodding, I waited for her to ask me how old I was - 31. Why I wasn't spending the day with friends and family - didn't have any. None worth spending time with anyway. They were always asking the wrong questions, saying the wrong things. But Bella, Bella didn't ask anything. Bella didn't _say _anything, not unless she was blabbing on and on about her sad fucking past and those mangy-ass dogs. Bella was getting on my last fucking nerve, the mousy, little thing.

"Was there something you wanted? I'm kind of in a hurry here," I pressed, facing forward to run my hand along the bottom of the steering wheel.

_I need to get laid, find somebody who's willing. Is that you, little girl? It is my birthday, after all. Have you come to bring me a gift?_

I internally snored while she went on and on about her car troubles, and how she was running short on supplies, which was funny seeing as though I'd been the one feeding her damn near every night.

Fucking,selfish tease.

I had never been more elated than when she actually asked a question about me.

"So, where are you going?"

"Town."

"Oh, really?

_Yes, fucking really._

"Really."

Needlessly fiddling with the knobs on the dash, I acted disinterested in anything she had to say. What little lay between her ears and that elusive space between her legs remained an anomaly to me. It was the only other angle I had to play.

"Well, what are you doing when you get to town?" she pried, curling her reddened fingers over the frame of the door, her voice lowering - what leaned towards - a seductive octave or two. Scratching my brow, I blew out a low chuckle.

"Hopefully, the curvy redhead that works at the bar," I baited. Feeling a touch frisky, I fed fire to the flame. "Things around here have grown a little boring." My eyes lapped a line over her hair, careful to avoid her eyes. I glanced at her chest before facing forward, and shrugged. "She looked like a lot of fun."

_Probably doesn't have any dogs._

My insides warmed with the waves of jealousy that rolled off of her. So strong that they crashed into my side, and I almost swayed. She had no self-esteem; she'd already told me as much. It was easy knocking her down, almost too easy to be fun. But I was still having fun, hauling off and smacking her hard with the truth.

She was plain, replaceable; I wasn't voicing anything she didn't already know.

"You're welcome to tag along, though, if you don't mind sharing the cab."

Surprise didn't even cover it when she pushed off my door, rounded the front and hopped in beside me. But I hid it well, rolling up my window before shifting into gear.

This was what I wanted.

_Like fucking putty._

The ride to town was quiet, save for the thoughts running through my head. Most of which were concerning my plot. The publisher had gotten my snapshots, written back and actually had the gall to tell me that it was predictable, oversexed,and poorly executed.

He also said that he knew I could do better. I think his exact words were "_better do better if you ever want this shit storm to run."_

Entitled asshole; he could blow it out his.

I needed tonight to go right. I needed things to start going my way. It was just the way it had to be.

I always got what I wanted.

_Always._

Imagine my delight when we walked into the place, only to be seated by a curvy redhead, another standing just behind the bar.

"You might have to hitch a ride back, after all," I teased Bella playfully as we each took a seat on either side of the booth. Sliding in, I watched in amusement while she struggled to strip herself of her puffy coat. "Only three of us can fit comfortably in the cab."

Finally freeing her arms, she sat the jacket aside with a dejected look on her face, her gaze jumping between the waitress and the barmaid. Now was the time to reel it in and lay it on thick. The night was too young, and I was growing weary of this shit.

"You know they don't hold a candle to you, right?" I told her, leaning in to grab her by the wrist. Pulling it in, I thumbed her thrumming pulse point. "Those girls," I jerked my head casually in their direction, "they're merely replacements for the real thing," I paused. "I'd much rather go back home with you." Peeking up at her from under my lashes, I released her wrist to lean back against the ripped pleather, holding her brown eyes in the palm of my hand as Curvy took our orders.

The longer I stared, the deeper dahlia her cheeks ran, the more she thumbed the condensation collecting on her glass. I found the nervousness seeping from her pores sexier than any eye fucking Ol' Red had thrown my way.

I wanted to tie up need, not indulgence.

But I would take either.

"Why did you come with me, Bella?" I asked, strategically breaking eye contact in dismissal of her response. Otherwise occupied, I took a drink from my tumbler, casually tapping my fingers on the table as I watched the redhead walk by. I set my sights on the sway of her hips, the curve of her ass as she bent forward to serve a tray of drinks.

As far as chivalry was concerned, I was over it. I was done sugarcoating my intentions. My balls were in her court, so to speak. And I wanted her to work for it. I wanted to hear her say it. I wanted to see her suffer.

I deserved that much.

Catching Red's attention, I shot her my signature, crooked grin as she walked past, taking my ogling eyes with her. Really pushing it, I strained my neck until she finally disappeared behind the bar and I was free to turn back towards my perturbed date.

Shrugging off her accusatory brow, I brought the edge of my drink to my curved lips.

_What?_

_It only makes sense to keep my options open._

"Did you think I was bluffing?" I asked. "That I wouldn't dare pick up another woman with you in tow?"

Squirming under my scrutiny, Bella dropped her gaze to her lap. I imagined she was fiddling with the hem of her shirt, or her fingers, or some shit.

"Don't get me wrong, love; I want to take you home, I do. But I'm not so sure you want me to or thatyou even want _me_."

With my show of vulnerability, Bella peeked up from her lap. Licking those lips, she gaped, looking at me as if she wanted to argue.

"And that's fine, whatever. I'd have no trouble taking those two home," I assured her with a nod towards the bar. "All I've gotta do is close my eyes," I flattered her, glancing up and down what I could see of her small frame. "Picture you instead."

The flames of a stoked fire flourished from cheeks to chest. Her parted mouth glistening under the spit from her tongue. The way she wet her lower lip had me lulling. My third drink had hit me hard, and I shook my head, sucking in an uncharacteristically shaky breath when her socked foot pressed into my limp cock. Sniffing, I swiped my nose, clearing my throat as I adjusted in my seat. Her foot followed my every little movement, her toes toying with the underside of my balls when I lifted my hips.

Different scenarios played through my head: her stripping off her socks to give mean awkward foot job, her sliding under the table to suck me off.

Bucking up as she pressed down, I imagined her soft mouth around me.

Instead of kicking us out, the redhead would smile as she got down on all fours, crawling under the table to assist Bella with the width of my cock. Both of their warm tongues wetting me,as they slid up and down the sides of my shaft, taking turns tasting the precum leaking from the head.

Shifting in my seat, I'd never been so hot and bothered as I was in that moment, not fully hard, but still fully wanting it.

I more than wanted it.

I wanted to own it, hogtie it and fuck it into oblivion.

I wanted to fuck everything, and everyone.

I just wanted to fuck.

_Fuck!_

"Edward?" Her timid voice knocked me over like a set of goddamn bowling pins. Shit, I was ripped, andonly after three drinks. At least, I think it was three.

"Hmm?"

"Did you hear me?"

Lifting my head, I let it fall back,fighting the droop in my lids as the two Bellas' in front of me became one. Leaning in, she scooted closer, pushing her full drink to the side, the bottom of the glass skating across the ridges in the worm-holed wood. It grated on my ears. Made me hear things.

"I said, take me home."

Sneakily scanning from side to side, she pressed harder against my groin.

"I want you to tie me up."

I groaned, "Fuck."

Grabbing her ankle, I ran it up and down my crotch before shoving her off and climbing out of the booth to toss her the keys.

"You're driving."

* * *

The ride back was a haze of frenzied touches and kisses, and yet I still couldn't get it up to full working order. I was more pissed than anything, frustrated beyond belief. Bella was finally willing to give it up, and there was shit I could do about it.

Pulling into the snowy drive, Bella fishtailed, knocking the side of my head into the window before coming to a stop.

"Fuck," I flinched, rubbing roughly at the sore spot as her hands ran all over my flaccid junk.

Resting my head back against the seat, I let her at it, no doubt,that I'd have it up in no time.

* * *

I woke to the sound of howls, sprawled out alone on my cold bed, and still fully dressed. Rubbing my hands over my face, I threw off the covers, springing from the bed only to sit back down again, having grown dizzy with the sudden movement.

I was still drunk, fuzzy and numb from the lingering alcohol. It took me a few moments to gather my bearings.

My head was pounding, still sore from where I had banged it earlier on the window.

Had that bitch caused me to bang it on the window, or was it all a dream? I wasn't exactly sure. My head was a murky mess, memories of the early evening hazy in my mind.

I wanted to bang _her _head against a window. I wanted to bang both those stupid dogs'heads against a window.

Another loud bellow resounded from all four walls, and I folded into my lap, yanking on the ends of my hair before releasing it to slap my knees.

"Shut the fuck uuuuup!" I screamed, thrashing around on the side of the bed before shooting out and charging into the kitchen. Mind gone. My level of pissed-off on record-breaking high.

Recklessly fishing through all the drawers, I slammed each empty one shut, searching out the sharpest object I could find. I wanted to murder those fucking hounds, kill them dead. I planned on it, too, pulling out a shiny, new butcher knife, and thoughtfully looking it over. A sinister smile spread as easy as warmed butter.

Without a trace of hesitation, I flung open the door.

The midnight moon was hung high, the wind and trees stilling with the slam of my screen.

Quick like a goddamn jungle cat, I darted across the yard, one intention playing over and over in my mind.

Silencing those fucking hollows howls.

Those bloodhounds.

I was going to make them live up to their name.

Bella had moved them inside the house sometime during the night, a fact that caused an evil smirk to twist on my face.I was sure she only relocated them because of me. I wondered if I said something to offend, if the leftover truth serum had worked its magic while my consciousness bided. The smirk died away though, as I realized moving them inside, my very own idea, didn't do much to diminish the intensity of their cries. Instead of a woeful bane, it was then a muffled, woeful bane, which wasn't much fucking better.

Taking the steps two at a time, I slowly pulled open her screen, my smile returning once I found the stupid bitch had left the door unlocked. Kicking off my muddy boots, I cracked it open, sure to assist the screen door shut. The dogs quieted once I entered. Their sagging faces turned in my direction, their thick tails wagging. Lumbering from the hallway leading to Bella's bedroom and into the living room, they rested on their haunches, staring at me with round, expectant eyes.

Full of forgiveness.

The mutts had never snapped at me. They never bit. But their howls. It was their howls that hindered me, night and day, day and night. Keeping me from my work, keeping me from burying my cock deep inside their master. Death was imminent, and no man could blame me. No sane man, and I was sane. Yes, I was sane. Murdering them was only logical.

"Here, boys," I called, hiding the knife behind my back, snorting over the fact. "Come 'ere, boys."

I was slick, I'm telling ya. Real slick. Easing around the rickety furniture and carefully approaching those dogs, they didn't have a clue what was coming for them.

Or maybe they did.

They darted around me, knocking over a T.V. table in the process. Dirty dishes hit the floor, shattering and splintering into shards. Black and tan fur ambled around me as I swung the knife. Instead of landing a blow, I hit the floor, sputtering and screaming at those fucking dogs. Oatmeal coated my hands, and I cursed Bella for being such a slob, for not cleaning up after herself, and for owning these fucking hell hounds.

"Think you can outsmart me, huh?" I asked the dogs, shushing the growling response erupting from beneath the kitchen table.

I watched them for a while, the two beasts. Watched them for so long that they laid down, quiet for the first time in fucking forever. Pacing back and forth, I kept the blade behind my back, contemplating my strategy.

I would have to approach the twin beasts cautiously as they hunkered down, awaiting my next expected me to toss the table over, breaking Bella's cheap dinnerware in the process. They expected a smashed vase and scattered, plastic flowers, but I wouldn't give it to them. I was smarter than that. So much fucking smarter.

Waving at the little fuckers, I flipped both of them off before making my way down the darkened hallway. Bella's bathroom was just as messy as the rest of the house, and I couldn't help but wonder when she became so fucking disgusting.

Turning on the faucet, I cradled my palms under the spray, splashing the cold water in my face. Just enough to wake me up, to help me think more clearly.

Think more clearly.

Wiping myself dry with my own shirt, I glanced up into the mirror, finding my reflection gaunt. I was drained, void of all color. The lighting in this room did nothing for my complexion.

"You're a fucking genius, Masen."

The fingers running along my scruffy jaw shot out to the bottom corner of the mirror. The solution was right in front of my face. Quite literally, as I easily pried the cabinet open, finding it stocked full of prescription bottles, enough to make me question the girl next door, the one I thought I had figured out.

Fluoxetine.

Carbamazepine.

Clonazepam.

Lithium.

_What the fuck?_

A low groan broke through the silence. Bella's bedroom was directly across the hall from the bathroom, and I would have realized this if I were in the right frame of mind.

Right frame of mind.

The pills in the cabinet weren't the only ones in the house. Blue and white, round and oblong, they were scattered everywhere on the nightstand beside her, where she rested in a peaceful slumber. I stood over her for a while, gripping the pill bottles in my hands, my hatred brewing in the pit of my belly. There she lay resting without a care in the world, her bare legs tangled in cotton sheets, while I begged for sleep night after night.

My glare shot up with the sound of heavy paws scratching against the wood floor. I rounded the end of Bella's bed, walking right past the beasts and quietly commanding them to follow. They obeyed without question, their fat asses traipsing right along behind me, down the hall and into the kitchen where I taunted them with the jingle of happy pills.

"You guys are gonna love these."

Setting the bottles down on the table, I turned my back to scrounge a pack of hotdogs. The antsy mutts watched in interest as I shoved pill after pill into the cold meat, their tongues lapping at their dry noses.

"There ya go." I tossed them two each, resting my chin in my hand as they devoured the pork and pills. "That'll make you feel better."

I waited patiently for the medication to take effect, quietly humming the theme to Underdog below my breath. It wasn't all that long before they were flat on their sides, snoring loudly. I kicked one in the head just to make sure before stripping them of their collars.

It was about damn time I had some peace and quiet.

Peace and quiet.

I sighed.

A weight was lifting off my chest with every step I took back to Bella's room. I watched a moment while she slept, kneeing the mattress before poking her arm, and then finally shaking her shoulder.

Bella rolled over, whispering a name in her sleep. My name. Her hair was matted to the side of her face, and her wrinkled shirt twisted under her tits. Reaching out, I couldn't help myself, grazing the tip of my finger over her naked flesh, and watching in fascination as her skin erupted in a trail of goosebumps along her abdomen. There was nothing special about the clothing she wore: a plain t-shirt and cotton panties, but there was something extraordinary about the way she never flinched, not once, as I tugged the panties down over her hipbones, exposing what I'd been craving since the day she pulled into her muddy drive.

I was sick.

I was suffering.

I was cautious touching her, so fucking cautious, nudging her from her side until she turned onto her back. For a moment, I considered tugging her underwear entirely from her body, but she looked too fucking sweet with the thin material tangled around her knees. Her hips rose as I stroked the inside of her thighs, slowly making my way up. She wanted me. Even in sleep, she wanted me. I could tell by the way she ground her hips into the bed, and then back up. I could tell by the way she whispered my name, biting her bottom lip between syllables. I could tell by the smell of her sex in the air.

"You like it when I touch you, don't you, Bella?"

A strangled moan was her response. Her head began to dip and nod, and she begged for me to touch her, to stroke her, in a sleep-induced trance. Fuck, maybe I was the one in the sleep-inducedtrance.

_Is this even real?_

_Am I even here? In this crazy bitch's house?_

I tossed the pill bottles and collars from my hands onto the nightstand. The loose pills scattered about, and I picked one up and popped it into my mouth, dry swallowing the son of a bitch. I was uncaring of what it was. Anything would help the throbbing in my head at that point.

Sitting at her bedside, I continued my quest along Bella's body, gently peeling her shirt up over her tits and staring down in genuine surprise.

Bella's breasts were fuller than I imagined. Round and firm, with small, pink nipples straining against the cool, night air. She moaned and trembled once my hot breath pricked against the coolness of one, stiff peak. I rolled her nipple around my tongue, tasting and watching, searching her face for any signs that she would awaken and find me pleasuring her, and pleasuring her I was.

I was just getting started when Bella pulled her arms in, covering herself. Tisking, I grabbed one of the collars from the stand, tracing the creamy length of her arm before gripping her wrist and lifting it above her head where I tied it to the cast-iron frame of the bed. I gave the leather a firm tug, making sure it was secure before doing the same to her other.

Still, she didn't wake up as she lay moaning and shifting beneath me.

Giving in, I gave her what she wanted, my fingers gliding down her sides to the edge of her panties. Tugging them from her legs, I parted her thighs, frowning at the resistance I suddenly felt.

Games.

Always playing games, even in her sleep.

Classic Bella, she fought to keep her legs together, another low moan falling from her lips, but I was persistent, shoving them open, satisfied with the gleam between her legs.

_Tells me all I need to know._

_She wants this._

_She wants me._

Situating myself between her spread legs, I traced the outer edge of her pussy, separating her lips and sinking my thumbs inside. Wetness seeped out around them, coating me to my knuckles, and I dipped down, looking up into big, brown eyes as I took my first lick.

"Morning, sunshine," I greeted, pressing my flat tongue against her swollen clit. I smiled against her needy pussy as she bucked up into my mouth, her eyes rolling into the back of her head.

Words seemed to escape her, which was fine by me. With each open-mouth moan, I thought of how deep her mouth could take my cock.

"You wanna suck my cock, Bella? Huh? Is that why you've got that pretty, little mouth open?" I asked against her wet flesh, feeling her inner walls clench.

Nodding, she attempted to wiggle her wrists free of her restraints, confusion so pretty when pinched in her brow. I chuckled at the scene.

"Eh," I shrugged. "Maybe tomorrow."

Removing my thumbs from inside her, I asked her to lick them clean, sure to leave a trail of her neediness running down her chin before standing. I ignored her worried questions about the dogs, and how I got the collars, her voice only getting louder and louder the further I walked away. Sure she was going to keep me awake with her squawking, I sought out a roll of duct tape before stomping back into her room to dig around her dresser drawer for a muffling pair of socks.

It was a chore getting the balled up cotton into the bitch's damn mouth. I dodged a couple of near misses before I got every fiber in there good enough to tape it shut. I needlessly shushed her. "Shh, you hear that? ... Silence." With a sinister smile, I condescendingly patted the top of her head.

"Time to rest now."

* * *

Adrenaline rushed through me. Adrenaline and something else, possibly the pill I popped before stumbling back home. Either way, I was on a roll, the tips of my fingers practically bleeding as I pounded on the keys.

I couldn't sleep.

Not now.

Not when I was so close.

My eyes grew weary as the seconds wheezed by, but my heart lurched forward. Blood rushed through my system, the sustenance of life pushing me towards my goal. And silence, golden silence met my ears for the first time in days, weeks, months? I shook my head, my memory lagging and unable to focus on the blurry memory of time, not when there were more important things to concentrate on.

_Keys._

_Characters._

_Deadlines._

_Silence._

When the last key struck the page, I paused. Awe and satisfaction seeped into my system, but I blinked it away and ripped the page from the typewriter. The clock struck four, and I became frantic, binding my manuscript, tucking it safely into a large, manila envelope, and darting through the door. Air didn't reach my lungs, not until I stepped from the post office and into the cool air, my manuscript, my prize-winning manuscript, finally on its way to the publisher in New York.

I grew hard just thinking about it: the notoriety, the money, the women … women. Bella's face flashed before me, and I gunned the engine, a grin stretching across my face as I thought of her bound and gagged, waiting for me to finish what I started.

_I bet she's so wet, waiting for me. There're no cockblocking dogs to stop me now._

The rental shook and squealed down the rutted drive, splashing mud and muck over the dull shine of the silver paint. The slam of the driver's door was a gunshot in the dimming evening light, the only sound to reach my ears, and I basked in the silence.

The house was death: dreary and quiet. The door creaked and protested as I toed it open, the engulfing air from outside whispering in. Stench filled my nostrils, the scent of decaying flesh, but I barely paid it any mind. I was too enraptured with the memory of Bella's wet pussy, too caught up in my sex-fueled fantasies to focus on the dead dogs. They no longer stood in my way, not even blocking my path to her bedroom. Instead, they lay curled up beside one another on the rug near the dead fireplace, their heads resting beside one another in death.

Anticipation was killing me, smothering my breath from my lungs. Creeping down the hallway, my zipper was already in my hand, and I tugged it downward, ready to release my stiffening cock. Bella must have been as anxious as me, tied up and horny for hours on end with no relief in sight. Gloating at the thought, I unbuttoned my jeans and kicked her bedroom door open, but froze in the doorway.

The bed, that rumbled, sagging bed, lay bare. Nothing but fisted sheets remained behind, no Bella in sight. The floor groaned under my boots, moaning and whining, and I cringed, reminded of those fucking dogs. Pressing my hands to my ears, my stinging eyes filled with frustrated tears.

"Those fucking dogs," I moaned. I could still hear them. Would they ever stop howling?

Another moan from the warped wood, but this time it wasn't my boot that made the sound. The bedroom door slammed into me, jarring my body from the impact of the ancient lumber, pushed away from the wall by an unseen force.

Stumbling, I fell into the doorframe, my head pounding, my stomach lurching. The door creaked on its hinges, the edges of my vision going black. My hands fumbled around, seeking support as my knees buckled. Perfume bottles toppled over, the scent I once desired now burning my nostrils. I gasped for fresh breath, but it was the last gasp. Air filled my lungs and then it was cut off, my throat constricted as something cinched around my neck, burning, tightening.

My reflection stared back at me in the mirror hanging on her wall. Eyes bugged out, tinged red on the edges, and a fucking dog collar wrapped around my neck. Bella clung to my back, her small hands wrapped around the object,cutting off my oxygen as her legs wrapped around my waist, her heat pressing against my back. I ripped at her hands, but it was in vain. Insanity flashed in her eyes, the chocolate brown I once found so dull now brimming with hostility and wrath as she smothered my existence from the earth.

"You killed them!" she cried. "They were all had!"

The quiet voice she once spoke had since morphed into something different, coming out as a growl,tearing from her chest. I stumbled backwards, knocking her into the bedpost, sending a scream howling from her throat. She only choked me harder, the nylon digging into my flesh just as the ropes had once burned into hers. How my heart didn't explode I'll never know.

Terror overcame me, for I knew that surely I would die. I underestimated the woman, thinking her weak and unworthy.

Unless it was a dream.

_Is this really a dream?_

_Please let it be a dream._

I was close, so close to achieving what I wanted: fame and fortune;and that little bitch was attempting to deny me what was rightfully mine. To die would be a failure; the utmost failure. And I wasn't a failure.

I fought harder, twisting and turning on my wobbly legs, the darkening edges of my vision creeping to the center of my eyes. We collapsed on the bed, her tightening grip never-endingas she whispered in my ear.

"You sick fuck. You're gonna pay for what you did - to me, my dogs."

My mouth gaped open, but I couldn't respond. The stranglehold she had on me won, surpassing what little fight I had left in me. The darkness seeped entirely over my vision, clouding my view. My eyes grew heavier, weak. Exhaustion stole me away, and I was drifting.

Drifting ...

* * *

The Autumn wind whipped and whirled, blowing the leaves from the trees.

Freely, they tumbled down the street getting stuck under all the passer- bys' traipsing feet.

There was but one that was spared from a death, oh so cold and callous.

Its crispy, curled appendages picked up by the whipping, whirling wind with a brunt force so full of malice.

One leaf, obscure and timely, landed on a glassy shore, tucking itself neatly inside the windowsill of a little, local bookstore.

Bottomless brown eyes roamed the window display, her smile she devotedly committed.

Stepping inside, she had no reason to hide having since been swiftly acquitted.

Satisfied with the sale, she tucked it inside her purse, the meaning behind the title not to be mistaken.

This week's up and coming best seller was _The Hell Hounds of Rickety Flat_ by the _late_ Edward Anthony Masen.

* * *

This one-shot was originally written for TheSinners, a compilation of authors, DazzledIn2008, GothicTemptress, JonesnInDaHood, LayAtHomeMom, Planetblue, Robsmyyummy Cabanaboy, and SexiLexiCullen, who wrote seven sinful stories for your reading pleasure. Go check out the rest of the stories if you dare. Pen name: TheSinners. This story is known as Wrath in the compilation. The beautiful banner was made by Ceci Lolypowski. Many thanks to these wonderful ladies for the laughs and late night chats.

Thanks to SunflowerFran for the many hours she put in beta'ing this story and Robsmyyummy Cabanaboy for pre-reading. Much love.

Hugs, kisses, and maybe a nightmare or two,

Jonesn and Hoodfabulous


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